Fandom: M*A*S*H.
Author: Epigone.
Pairing: Klinger/Henry with mention of Trapper/Hawkeye.
Rating: PG.
Warnings: Sexual innuendo, but nothing more. Goofiness.
Archivists: Ask first.
Summary: Never let it be said that Klinger didn't try everything to get out of the Army.
Date Written: February 18, 2003.
Author's Notes: I blame Katie for this. She put out a challenge to write a pairing completely opposite your usual, and I'm not one to turn down a dare. I couldn't use BJ or Hawkeye, and since I'd already done Winchester/Klinger, I didn't want to fall back on that, either. So I was left with another character of whom I am very fond: Henry Blake. Things deteriorated from there.
Feedback: Can be sent to kmaru1701 [AT] hotmail [DOT] com, and is much appreciated.
A Very Good Year
Noon on slow days at the 4077th was a real drag for Henry Blake, because no one ever wanted to do anything.
Well, no one wanted to do anything with him, anyway. Father Mulcahy withdrew to his tent and sat down with a Good Book -- and as far as Henry was concerned, it took a damn lot of faith or self-control or something to stand up to that heat alone. In a thick cassock, no less. Frank and Hotlips snuck off after lunch toward the hills with a picnic basket, and despite the fervent prayers offered up by the rest of the camp, they hadn't snuck into a minefield yet. Radar sat in shirtsleeves and dust-smeared glasses in the outer office, sweating over requisition forms for sterile swabs and dirty movies. Pierce and McIntyre stirred drinks all afternoon in the Swamp, and from the noises of appreciation Henry had heard on his way to the latrine earlier that day, he had deduced that today was a very good year for that sort of thing.
He had even considered stopping in and asking for a sip, but then he thought better of it. Those two could be pretty screwy when somebody interrupted them in the middle of a drinking session.
So when the door to his office flew open and he heard Radar's shrill, panicky squeak of "I tried to stop him, sir," Henry was looking forward to having something to distract him from the annoying sounds his knuckles made when he clenched his fists. But it was only Corporal Klinger.
Corporal Klinger in a pale lavender sundress and matching bonnet, to be exact. This revelation made Henry sit up abruptly in his chair, sending the pile of Top-Secret, High-Priority mail on which he'd been resting his feet fluttering in all directions. Klinger stopped in the doorway and peered at him through the brief rain of paper.
"Colonel--" he began, hitching up the right strap on his dress, but Henry held up a hand.
"Klinger, siddown." Klinger obeyed, perching himself on the edge of a nearby chair and crossing his ankles primly. "Okay, what's the big idea, wearing this get-up?"
Klinger looked down at himself in all his gauzy purple glory.
"I look good in pastel colors, sir."
"No, I mean - Klinger, that's the exact same kind of dress my wife usually wears around this time of year." He frowned and added contemplatively, "She really doesn't have the figure for it."
Klinger, smoothing the skirt over his legs, said, "Well, Colonel, I didn't do it intentionally. I would never steal someone else's look."
"No, of course not," said Henry vaguely, and finally looked Klinger in the face. "Okay, what is it?"
"I've been seeing things, sir."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
"Like...." Klinger paused, his eyes flicking across the room, seeking inspiration. "Actually, I've been hearing things."
"Klinger--"
"I have hot flashes!"
"It's called summer in Korea."
"I speak in tongues!"
"Talk to the Father."
"I have strange cravings!"
"You're pregnant," said Henry dismissively. "Aw, c'mon, Klinger, why do we hafta go through this? Can't you just go back to your tent and powder your nose or something?"
Klinger's shoulders sagged. After a moment, he sighed and got to his feet laboriously, shaking out the crumpled folds of his dress.
"All right, sir, you win." He glanced with exaggerated dejection at the floor and noticed a stray paper under his chair. "You want some help cleaning this up before I go?"
Warily, Henry slid out of his own chair and went around to the other side of the desk, where a number of papers had fallen against the wall.
"Yeah, sure."
They spent a few minutes in silence on their hands and knees, disinterestedly gathering files emblazoned with the word "Confidential" in assertive red ink. Crawling around the desk, Henry came upon Klinger crouched beside a chair, papers bunched against his chest. He handed Klinger his findings, and Klinger obligingly stuffed them in among his own.
"Hey, Colonel?" asked Klinger, looking up rather suddenly from his sorting, so suddenly that Henry was afraid he'd be decapitated by Klinger's nose. "There are a lotta ways to get out of the Army, aren't there?"
Henry nodded, all at once very aware of the fact that Klinger's dress was quite low-cut indeed--
Oh, what the hell was the matter with that? What was there to see?
"'S what I thought," said Klinger thoughtfully, and then, rising up onto his knees, he took Henry's face in his hands with rough tenderness, the papers sliding sibilantly down between them, and kissed him soundly. They stayed in that position for some time, hunched in the lee of the sprawling desk, Henry quite willingly allowing Klinger to demonstrate the full extent of his insanity. When they came apart, it was Klinger who spoke first, a trifle breathlessly: "How's that? Enough for a discharge?"
Henry touched a finger to his lips and looked appraisingly at the bodice of Klinger's dress; for a moment, he saw the swells and curves of Lorraine rippling beneath it. He shook his head.
"It's against Army regs. to wear a dress," he said, only the quaver in his voice betraying that he was not in complete control of the situation.
"I don't have to wear it," replied Klinger readily, letting the right lavender strap slip lower on his shoulder. "You know me: I'm a stickler for Army regs."
Henry grinned and decided to ask Radar to lock the door. Let Pierce and McIntyre exclude their old commander from their fun -- in the cool, bright sanctuary of his office, it was a very good year for that sort of thing too.
~Fin~
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